Chapter 3: Shadows of Dominion

Silence hung heavy in the air as Leon sat on the ceremonial pedestal, his body still tingling from the remnants of the mana awakening. His father, Varek Nightshade, stepped forward, his imposing figure casting a long shadow beneath the flickering torches. His piercing black eyes locked onto Leon's, filled with a rare mix of curiosity and expectation.

"Leon," Varek's deep voice resonated through the courtyard. "What happened during the ceremony?"

Leon hesitated for a brief moment, his mind racing. He could still feel the lingering sensation of the relic—his father's heirloom—deep within him, yet he knew he couldn't mention it.

Even with his limited understanding of this world, he could tell that what had occurred was far from ordinary. If he revealed the truth now, he wasn't sure how his family would react.

Instead, he kept his expression neutral and shook his head. "I… I don't really know," he said, his young voice steady despite his lingering pain. "All I know is that I can wield mana now."

Varek's eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, only studying him for a moment longer before giving a slow nod.

A soft yet authoritative voice cut through the murmurs in the courtyard. "That is enough," Selene Nightshade spoke, stepping forward. Her regal bearing and sharp, violet eyes commanded respect. She placed a firm yet gentle hand on Leon's shoulder, her gaze softening ever so slightly. "You've done well, my son. This is an occasion to celebrate."

Leon blinked, slightly surprised by her warmth despite her intimidating presence.

One by one, his siblings followed suit.

Caelan, the eldest, stood tall, his resemblance to their father unmistakable. He gave Leon an approving nod. "That was… remarkable," he admitted, his voice carrying a weight of respect. "I've never seen anything like it."

Darian followed next, his sharp, almost serpentine features curving into a smirk. "Little brother, I think you might have outshined us all," he mused, his dark eyes filled with intrigue.

Lysandra and Thorne approached together. The twin siblings, with their matching raven-black hair and piercing eyes, exuded an almost eerie symmetry. "To think my little brother would steal the spotlight," Lysandra teased, crossing her arms. "I'm impressed."

Thorne, less vocal, simply patted Leon's head with a rare look of approval.

Elira was next, her youthful face alight with an almost fiery energy. "That was so cool brother!" she said, excitement bubbling in her tone.

Alden, the youngest before Leon, stepped up, his five-year-old face filled with admiration. "Brother, that was crazy!" he beamed.

Leon smiled faintly, his body still aching, but he noticed one sibling who had yet to say anything—Lucian. Unlike the others, Lucian had kept his distance, his grayish-black hair falling over his face as he observed from the sidelines. His demeanor was as dejected as ever, yet his eyes held something different this time—something resembling surprise.

Leon found it strange that Lucian was the only one who hadn't congratulated him. But he quickly brushed it off. Every family had that one odd sibling, right?

Before he could dwell on it further, three new figures approached.

His uncles and aunt.

Zephyr Nightshade, the first uncle, moved like a whisper in the wind, his steps eerily silent. His sharp features and narrowed gaze made it clear that stealth was his greatest weapon. "An impressive awakening, little shadow," he said smoothly. "The Veilborn Assassins could use someone of your talent."

Garrick Nightshade, the second uncle, was a stark contrast. Towering and muscular, his sheer presence radiated raw physical strength. His voice was deep and gravelly. "Now hold on Zeph, strength is the foundation of all power," he declared. "Your potential is great, boy. The Obsidian Titans would welcome you."

Finally, Selora Nightshade, their aunt, stepped forward. Cloaked in deep violet robes, her aura was thick with arcane energy. Her dark eyes shimmered as she studied him, almost as if she could see right through him. "Look at you two, trying to take away my precious nephew before me, such an awakening… the Umbral Arcanum has long sought a prodigy," she murmured.

Leon tensed under their gazes, realizing they were already trying to pull him into their respective orders. He had no idea what to say.

For now, he simply lowered his head slightly. "Thank you."

The adults exchanged glances before stepping back.

A hush fell over the courtyard, a silence more oppressive than any words could ever be. The air, once filled with murmurs and restrained excitement, turned heavy, thick with something unseen yet unmistakably present.

The heads of the outer houses, once so eager to step forward, now hesitated, their ambitions briefly tempered by the presence of the man before them. Varek Nightshade did not need to raise his voice, nor did he need to gesture for silence. His very presence commanded it.

Still, there were those who wished to press their advantage—to make themselves known, to claim some distant connection to the child who had shaken the heavens with his awakening. They stepped forward, their voices tentative yet persistent.

It was then that Varek moved.

No grand motion, no flourish—just the simple act of releasing his restraint.

A crushing weight descended upon the gathered Nightshades, an unseen force pressing against their very existence. It was not enough to bring them to their knees, but it was enough to remind them of the distance, the insurmountable gap that separated them from him.

The air grew thick, oppressive. Some staggered. Others trembled. A few, those with the strongest wills, grit their teeth in silent defiance. But none could ignore the truth that had settled into their bones.

This was Varek Nightshade, The Abyssborn Tyrant—the man who had resurrected a dying name and turned it into something unshakable. The man who had dragged the Nightshade family back from the brink with blood, will, and overwhelming might. The second Sovereign in their family's history, following only the nameless founder, whose shadow still loomed over them all.

When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, absolute.

"This matter is not one for wandering tongues," Varek declared, his words carrying an undeniable weight. "What has transpired here will remain within these walls. You will take it to the grave if necessary."

The weight upon them intensified. A few gasps rang out. The more desperate among them clutched at their throats, though no physical hand constrained them.

"You will all proceed to the administrative hall," he continued. "There, you will sign a mana oath binding your silence. You will not speak of what has happened here—not to your kin, not to your closest confidants, not even to yourselves in the quiet of night."

The power in the air grew heavier still, enough to drive the warning deep into their very beings.

Then, as if the weight had never been there, Varek turned, already making his way toward the grand halls of the estate. One by one, the others followed, some more reluctantly than others, but none daring to disobey.

Leon watched them go, silent amidst the storm that had just passed. Even at his young age, he understood—this was power. Not just strength, but authority. Dominion.

And he could not shake the feeling that, one day, he will also wield such power.

After the tense ceremony, the gathered family members were quickly escorted to the administrative hall, a large and imposing structure within the Nightshade estate. The building's towering marble walls seemed to echo the weight of centuries-old tradition, the air thick with history and power.

Leon was led down a grand corridor by stern-faced attendants, and the sound of his footsteps was swallowed by the expansive hall. At the end of the corridor was a large chamber, where his family and the other attendees were to sign their Mana Oaths.

The room was stark and formal, illuminated by hanging crystal lights that cast a cold glow on the stone walls. An ornate desk sat in the center, attended by scribes who were ready to record each oath.

As the family filed in, Leon could feel the tension rise in the room. The weight of the Mana Oath was palpable, as if the very air thickened with each passing second. The oath was not a simple vow; it was an ancient contract sealed within the soul of each person, binding them to absolute silence about the events they had witnessed today.

To break it would not only result in the loss of mana but in death itself.

Each family member, starting with Varek, stepped forward and signed their names on the delicate parchment, their pens gliding over the surface as though it were a sacred rite. The oath was sealed, not with ink, but with a surge of power that seemed to ripple through the air as each individual uttered their silent vow.

Leon watched, mesmerized, as his father's signature was placed upon the scroll, the air thickening with mana. He could feel the immense weight of Varek's presence as he stood tall at the front, the power of a Sovereign practically radiating off of him.

Then it was Leon's turn. His heart pounded in his chest, but as he placed his hand on the parchment, a surge of warmth washed over him. The oath marked his very soul, the words inscribed not on paper but deep within the core of his being. He could feel it embed itself in his soul, binding him to the Nightshade family in a way no one could escape.

The attendants watched in silence, their eyes cold and impassive. As soon as the final signature was made, a low hum filled the room—the power of the oath settling within each individual, ensuring the vow was unbreakable.

Varek, who had been silent throughout the process, gave a single nod of approval. His voice broke the quiet reverence of the moment.

"If any among you waver…"

A pause. A promise.

"…then you will find yourselves visited by the Eclipse Sentinels."

A shudder passed through the crowd. Even among those who considered themselves powerful, there was no hiding the unease that flickered across their faces.

No one knew the identities of the Eclipse Sentinels. They were whispers in the dark, specters that existed only to enforce the will of the main house. They had no allegiances beyond Varek's decree, no mercy beyond what was deemed necessary.

And none who had drawn their ire had ever been seen again.

A long, suffocating silence followed.

The weight of his words settled heavily on Leon's chest. He knew better than to question them. Breaking the oath was a death sentence—something no one would risk lightly.

A thick silence followed, the tension in the room palpable. The family members exchanged uneasy glances, none daring to speak. They had witnessed the power of Varek firsthand today. The mere thought of angering him, or of encountering them, sent a cold shiver down Leon's spine.

"Now," Varek continued, his tone returning to a more neutral pitch, "we will proceed to the Grand Hall for the feast. Let us celebrate this occasion. But remember—no word of today's events leaves this hall."

The family nodded solemnly, and one by one, they exited the Administrative Hall, the air still thick with the weight of the oath they had just sworn.

The Grand Hall was a vast, cavernous hall that seemed to stretch endlessly in all directions. The room was filled with long, polished tables laden with platters of food—meats that seemed to shimmer with an unnatural glow, fruits with vibrant colors Leon had never seen in his past life, and dishes that carried a subtle but powerful aura of mana.

It was a place where the family gathered for important events, and tonight, it was filled with the sound of laughter, chatter, and the clinking of silverware.

Leon, still processing the weight of the day's events, found himself seated at a large table beside his family. The food was magnificent—juicy cuts of meat from beasts he could barely name, fruits that tasted like they held the very essence of the earth itself.

Every bite seemed to pulse with mana, invigorating his body and awakening his senses in ways he hadn't expected.

Conversations swirled around him—talk of disputes between the family estates, rumors of conflicts brewing between kingdoms, and talks of Aura, the other mystical force that existed alongside Mana.

Leon listened intently, hoping to learn as much as he could about this new world he had been thrust into. He was absorbing every detail, every word, even if it didn't make complete sense to him yet.

He caught snippets of conversations from his siblings—Caelan, Darian, Lysandra, and Thorne—each discussing their own duties, their roles within the family. There were hints of rivalry and competition, but also a sense of camaraderie that Leon didn't fully understand.

Elira and Alden, though younger, were just as invested in the ongoing conversations, each adding their own thoughts as if they were already fully integrated into the family's complex dynamics.

While Lucian, well, was being Lucian.

As the banquet slowly came to a close, the noise and excitement began to die down. The guests and family members began to filter out, bidding their goodbyes as they left the grand hall.

Leon, feeling a mix of exhaustion and anticipation, was about to leave when Varek's voice rang out again.

"Leon," his father called, "meet me in my office in an hour. Rest before you come."

Leon nodded, his heart racing at the thought of what awaited him.

...

An hour later, Leon found himself walking down the grand hallway of the Nightshade estate. The air was still, almost oppressive, as he moved deeper into the mansion. The walls, adorned with priceless art and artifacts, seemed to close in around him as he approached the door at the end of the hallway.

The door was massive, its surface made of dark wood, and on it, a single sign read: The Patriarch. The two guards, clad in black armor that absorbed all light around them, opened the door without a word.

Inside, the office was just as imposing as the rest of the estate. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes and artifacts. The atmosphere was thick with power, the air practically vibrating with the intensity of Varek's presence.

Varek sat at a massive desk, his eyes fixed on Leon as he entered. Without a word, he motioned for Leon to sit.

The conversation that followed would set the course for Leon's future—his training, his role within the family, and his path to becoming more than just a son of the Nightshade family. But for now, he could only feel the weight of the decisions he had made, and the power that had just begun to awaken within him.

The Nightshade legacy had only just begun to claim him.